


Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

by thegaygladers



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner RPF, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: DYLMAS ANGST, DYLMAS FLUFF, M/M, dylmas - Freeform, fuck this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegaygladers/pseuds/thegaygladers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With The Death Cure shooting all done, the Maze Runner cast have to part ways.<br/>But it is not as easy for a few of them to leave behind something that had become such a big part of their lives.</p><p> </p><p>Leave behind some<em>one</em> who had become a big part of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

“Mmmm... morning, Bel - _what the fu_ -?”

“Thomas? You awake?"

That woke Thomas, alright. His eyes were wide in horror and staring at the half- sleeping figure in his bed. His head felt heavy, ached horribly.

“Dylan - what the  _fuck_  are you doing in my- how - what-,” Thomas tried, hurrying to get away from the bed as soon as humanly possible.

He was  _naked_.

“…what did we…"

_Naked with a hangover and unendurable muscle cramps._

“Oh.  _My god_.”

Dylan was fully awake by now, too, his face flushed with humiliation and confusion.

“Get out. Get out get out  _get out_ ,” Thomas muttered, not looking at the other boy.

Dylan didn't respond, he acquired his clothes from the dresser and changed in an eerie silence. He looked on the verge of tears.

Thomas stared at the wooden floor of his apartment right up until he heard the front door click shut.

_He had slept with Dylan._

_Dylan O'Brien._

_His best friend._

He remembered very vivid details about the night before, but only in rather frustratingly short snippets.

_***_

_-It was the night when the cast of The Maze Runner had finally finished the shoot for The Death Cure, and Dexter had insisted they celebrate-_

- _They were in a random nightclub in London, close to Thomas’s flat. Ki Hong, Kaya, Dexter, Will and Rosa. All of them. And Dylan-_

_-Thomas was sitting on a barstool, alone, watching Dylan dance threateningly close to Ki-_

_-“Ki Hong is married, no fear,” Thomas had thought. But he had. He had feared. It was Hollywood, and in Hollywood marriages didn’t last-_

_-He watched as girls and guys alike threw themselves at Dylan, and watched as Dylan danced with all of them. Even the guys-_

_-Thomas burned with red hot hatred for the guys-_

_-“Why?” he remembered asking himself-_

_\- Thomas had ordered another drink, and though his brain was fuzzy, knew he was wasted-_

_-“Because you’ve been in love with him for 3 years,” a voice in his head had told him-_

_\- One more drink. And another two. And five more-_

_-“Thomas?”-_

_-Thomas had looked up, and almost laughed-_

_\- there was two of everything, except Dylan-_

_-he was in strikingly colored focus-_

_-looking at Thomas with anxious eyes, his hands stabling Thomas’s form to get a clear look on his face-_

_-it felt so cliché-_

_-Thomas had to lift his face just a couple of centimetres for his lips to touch Dylan’s-_

_\- “Holy shit, Tom, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?” Dylan had asked-_

_-“N-nothi-ng,” Thomas had said-_

_\- And then he had felt tender yet strong arms lift him from the chair, carrying him into the shotgun seat of a car-_

_-“Do you wanna go … home, Thomas?"-_

_-Thomas had only groaned in response, squeezing Dylan’s wrist tightly-_

_-And the next thing he knew, he was being laid into his familiar bed by the same gentle arms-_

_-And Dylan was turning to leave-_

_-“Don’t…”-_

_-Dylan had turned around instantly, concern flitting across his face but disappearing much too quick-_

_-“You need something, Tom? Medicine? Uh... water? a change of clothes?"-_

_-“ I want you to...Don’t…go…”-_

“Thomas, you’re not in your right mind,” Dylan had said, clearly struggling with himself.

But Thomas hadn't noticed.

“ _Please_ , Dyl… _Please_  Dylan _stay_.”

“I can’t- I  _can’t_ , Thomas... Maybe someday, when you actually want me and not just because your head can’t string two thoughts together without getting migraines,” Dylan had said desperately.

“Dylan… _please_ …”

“Come  _on,_  babe. Don’t play with me like this,” Dylan had whined, staring at Thomas's body lying on the bed yearningly. “This is getting really hard for me, okay? To be given something you’ve so desperately wanted for so long and having to walk away from it…” Dylan screwed his eyes shut, at battle with his mind. “It’s really,  _really_ difficult, y’know. And I don’t know why I’m even saying all this. Now, out of all the times. You probably didn't even get any of that.”

He was almost out the door when a small voice – which would’ve been inaudible had Dylan not been waiting for it – called out.

“Please stay…  _I love you, Dylan_.”

And Dylan’s heart actually had skipped a beat right then, his eyes had widened. He had known Thomas didn’t mean it. But he still rejoiced at the knowledge that right now,  _right now_ , those words had fallen from Thomas’s mouth for  _him. For Dylan_.

And Dylan was in love with Thomas, had been for three years.

And in love, those three words were all it took to break every wall, every sense of pretense down.

_"I love you too."_

The little bit of Thomas’s head that still made sense was screaming at him to “ _Stop! Stop! What are you doing!_ ”

Dylan had been next to him on the bed in an instant, running his hand through Thomas’s hair and massaging it a little where he felt the muscles spasm.

It had almost eased the throbbing completely.

_Almost._

_“Thomas, stop, for god’s sake!_ ” Thomas’s mind was in a state of panic, but his body refuse to co-operate. “ _After all you’ve gone through to hide it! For so long! He doesn’t like you, Thomas! You'll ruin everything! You can’t lose control like this_!”

And Thomas was leaning into Dylan’s touch, his sweaty hands clumsily unbuttoning the boy’s shirt.

And Dylan was caving in, he could no longer resist. He wasn’t that strong. Dylan knew they both had girls waiting on them at home, strong girls who didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

But Dylan had succumbed, and he had allowed the drunken boy to do whatever he pleased with him.

***

The memories were clearer now that Thomas sifted through them consciously.

It had not been Dylan’s fault. In fact, Thomas had left the brunet no choice.

Dylan hadn't laid a hand on Thomas; he had offered all of himself to him while asking for nothing in return.  

He had let Thomas use him for his own satisfaction, because he  _loved_  him.

 _“He did it for me,”_  Thomas thought quietly.

And then, like a blow square in the chest:

_He loves me._

“Holy shit, Dylan!” Thomas yelled, putting on the first thing that came at hand, running out of his apartment.

_He loves me **back**._

“Dylan!”

But Dylan seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.

_What had Thomas done?_

“ _You’ve fucked it up,_ ” his mind told him. Thomas thought it was being disturbingly, brutally honest today.

“Dylan…”

And then Thomas had a thought - like an epiphany almost, and he felt stupid about not thinking of it before.

Thomas  _knew_  where Dylan went when he was very, very sad.

He was the only one that did.

Thomas tried to ignore the gnawing knowledge that today, it was because of him Dylan was sad.

It took Thomas about an hour to get there, his mind racing and his heart thudding, aching.

||

And he was there _,_ Dylan, just  _standing,_  letting the waves wash over his feet as he looked into the sea.

He looked like a masterpiece. 

Relief flooded through Thomas, despite the apprehension he felt about what was going to happen next.

_At least he hadn't gone and bloody killed himself._

It was the beach where Dylan and Thomas had first spent time alone, right after the declaration of the final cast of The Maze Runner.

It was amazing how things between them had changed since then, but at the same time, how nothing had changed at all.

Thomas had often told Dylan how sappy it was that this was Dylan’s favorite place, but never, not even when it was right at the tip of his tongue, had he added: “ _It’s mine, too_.”

Thomas had never been one for honesty.

Years of lying about his romantic life to veil his sexuality in countless interviews had made sure of that.

“The water is blue today,” Thomas said, his voice cracking just a little bit.

Dylan chuckled.

It was their old inside joke, one Thomas still remembered in brilliant detail.

“Just like your eyes… your hypnotic eyes…” Dylan finished.

**_***Flashback***_ **

_“The water is blue today.”_

_“Oh, really?  I never would’ve realized,” Thomas teased._

_“I’m trying to make conversation. We can’t get to know each other if we just sit and stare, you know,” Dylan protested, “Anyway. The water is like… really blue, you know… like the blue of your eyes. Hypnotic and alluring…”_

_“My eyes aren't even blue,” Thomas snickered._

_He also realized he liked this guy._

_“Stop interrupting my flirting, you dick!” Dylan complained, banging his fists on his lap childishly to create emphasis._

_“Me? A dick?” Thomas asked gravely. “I mean, yeah, we’re the same size and stuff…”_

_“Oh, god! I did not need to know that.”_

_“You loved it,” Thomas winked._

_And maybe he had._

_Maybe Dylan had loved it._

**_***end of flashback***_ **

“Now you know I wasn’t lying about my dick,” Thomas said in all seriousness.

“Oh, god! I did  _not_ want that thought in my head right now…”

“ _Oh you loved it_ ,” Thomas breathed onto the back of Dylan’s neck, making the boy shiver in response.

Dylan eventually turned to face Thomas, his eyes were moist and his face was blotchy from tears, but he was grinning.

“I did. I  _do_ ,” Dylan said. And then the smile was gone, replaced by a pained expression, filled with hopelessness and heartbreak and rejection. “I’m  _sorry._ ”

Thomas lowered his head and pressed his lips to Dylan’s collarbone.

He didn’t say it, but he felt the other boys pulse rate speed up at the simple contact.

“I’m  _so_  mad at you.”

“I know, I know, I’m  _sorry_ ,” Dylan replied, baffled by what was going on.  _Why was Thomas kissing his neck..? What-_

“Why didn’t you slap me across the face and tell me to stop being such a bloody sleepy sissy and enjoy my first time with you?”

“ _First_ time…” At this point, Dylan was very,  _very_   confused indeed - but he wasn't stupid. He heard the words Thomas didn’t add. 

_We’re going to do it again._

“You bloody  _idiot_ , you wasted so much of my time,” Thomas mumbled into Dylan’s neck. “I could’ve snogged your stupid face off that day on the set of the first film… during the ‘dare’ thingy. Why did you pull away? We could’ve gotten married by now, and have had little Dylmases running around in our back yard.”

Dylan properly laughed this time. “ _Fangirls…_ ” he said incoherently, his voice scratchy from too much crying, and muffled because his mouth was on Thomas’s hair.

“What?”

“That’s what the fangirls call us. The Tumblr girls.”

“What fangirls?”

“The fangirls that ship us,” Dylan replied plainly, only slightly surprised Thomas didn’t know about this.

“What’s a shi-”

He was cut off by the brunet pressing their lips together, so hard it was almost restricting their breathing.

But Thomas wasn't complaining.

_It felt too good._

This had been a long time coming, and Thomas wanted as much of Dylan as he could in his system.

As soon as possible.

“I was scared that night, during the shooting, that's why I didn't kiss you,” Dylan panted when they finally pulled away.  _“I had thought if I started, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”_


End file.
